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<title>Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P Diddy by ninthfang</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717986">Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P Diddy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthfang/pseuds/ninthfang'>ninthfang</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It, Gen, Time Travel Fix-It, and a lot of fun, and maybe a little murder, and there's a lot of confusion, basically instead of dying he gets yeeted back in time to his little sister's birthday, this stayed in my notes app for half a year</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:14:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthfang/pseuds/ninthfang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lamie's eighth birthday and she's looking forward to not going to school and eating cake with her mom, her dad, and her nerd brother Law, only when she goes to wake him up, said nerd brother is nowhere to be found and in his place is a man who is missing an arm and bleeding to death on Law's bed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P Diddy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Lamie wakes up, it is to her birthday. She is eight years old, and the sun is very bright. There are no birds outside her window—there haven’t been any for a long time now, long enough that she forgets what they sound like. She really only remembers birdsong when it’s down by human voices, as an imitation. </p><p>That kinda makes her sad, but in a distant sort of way that’s easy to brush off. It’s her birthday, after all. She can’t start it sad.</p><p>With that, Lamie stretches, sits up, and slides out of bed. Immediately, she’s dizzy and her vision blacks out at the edges, but the hardwood floor is cold on her bare feet and she trusts that it will hold her up even when she feels too-warm and wobbly.</p><p>She’s been getting sicker, recently. That scares her sometimes, but mostly she feels annoyed, since Law, who is three years older than her, does not. But it’s not like she <em> wants </em> him to be sick or anything. That would be a little unfair of her, and her parents have already given her the “developing empathy as a life skill” talk.</p><p>And since she’s already thinking about him, she pads out of her room and crosses the short, narrow hallway to bang on his door. There’s no response.</p><p><em> Oh, well </em> , she thinks, not particularly bothered in the slightest, <em> at least I tried </em>. She knocked, so Law can’t yell at her for it. And even if he tries—it’s her birthday, right? He’s not allowed to be mean to her until her twenty-four hours are over. </p><p>Arguments in place, she opens the door.</p><p>Inside is Law’s room. Everything is neatly in its place except for the mess of papers and open books on his desk. Homework and gross drawings of skinless human bodies are strewn everywhere, and his bed is unmade, and the heavy winter blankets are spilling onto the floor.</p><p>Laying in the bed is a man who is decidedly not Law. </p><p>He’s bleeding, which is the second thing she notices. The third thing she notices is that he’s bleeding a lot. Now, Lamie’s not a doctor or anything—that’s always been more her dad and Law’s thing—but it doesn’t take an expert in human physiology to know how much blood is too much. And this is definitely too much, judging by how there’s enough of it to soak through Law’s sheets and drip onto the floor, and—God, his <em> arm </em>. </p><p>What’s left of his arm is just red-seeping meat and the white flash of bone.</p><p>And really, that’s a little too much for a girl who’s just turned eight, not even in the double-digits. She’s screaming before she even realizes it. Actually, now that she thinks about it, she’s been screaming for a while—screaming her head off, screaming so hard her face gets red and her throat feels raw and her ears pop. Then a bunch of things happen at once.</p><p>She scrambles back and the door slams open, and her mom and dad are there and yelling, and then the man on Law’s bed leaps out of it, stumbles on the blanket, catches himself on the wall, and <em> more </em> blood gushes out his stump arm like juice out of an overripe peach, and then her parents are yelling again, and Lamie runs out of the room and throws up in the hallway.</p><p>All in all, it’s shaping up to be a very eventful birthday.</p><p> </p><p>//</p><p> </p><p>Law wakes up in stages. First, he realizes that he feels like shit. Then he realizes that he’s shivering. Then, he takes note of two things at once:</p>
<ol>
<li>He’s missing an arm and the “feeling like shit” thing is probably the incredible blood loss. (This might also have something to do with how he’s cold and weak instead of in copious amounts of pain.)</li>
<li>Someone is screaming.</li>
</ol><p>Suddenly, he becomes aware of the unmistakable sound of footsteps (two people, running but not very fast) heading in his general direction, and the dulcet tones of a door slamming open.</p><p>And <em> then </em> , in a show of the kind of sheer brilliance and carefully calculated planning the Surgeon of Death prides himself on, he launches himself out of a very familiar bed—because he was <em> in a bed </em>, holy fuck?—and trips over a very familiar blanket, and catches himself on a very familiar wall before he can fall face-forward into a very familiar floor, and turns around to see, in between all the black holes crowding his vision, three very familiar people.</p><p>Now, Law’s a doctor, first and foremost. He knows he’s about to pass out from an acute case of my-arm-got-cut-off-and-I-lost-a-lot-of-blood-itis, and he has maybe a split second before he does. </p><p>So what he does with that crucial split second is, he thinks to himself, very clearly, <em> What the fu— </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>might make another chapter if im ever able to leave my cursèd worm form and turn back into a human being</p></blockquote></div></div>
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